


We Had Joy, We Had Fun, We Had Seasons in the Sun

by LigeiaMaloy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Hank works on improving his life while making Connor's difficult and confusing in all the good ways, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Mild Kink, Mild humiliation kink, Talking, and not only dirty talking, implied child loss, lots of talking, this Connor has a dick, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LigeiaMaloy/pseuds/LigeiaMaloy
Summary: It's summer, it's hot, it's the best time to have a chat about life and stuff under a tree. And it's time for Connor to learn about the simple pleasures in life. Which is not necessarily anything naughty but if there's a will, there's a way to turn anything into a prelude for naughtier things.Or, in less ominous words: It's warm, Hank and Connor chat, one thing leads to another, and they make out in public, those scoundrels!It's also availableon my tumblr. Any signs of appreciation in the form of likes, favs, reblogs, comments, etc are, well, appreciated! ♥





	We Had Joy, We Had Fun, We Had Seasons in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> We had a preposterously long heat wave that kept me from writing. The worst was over a few days ago and I was busy to get all the non-writing things done I neglected. I'm dying to continue Blue Whisper but I needed something less complex to get back into a writing habit. 
> 
> Well, I wanted it to be ~3000 words long, now it's +6000, so, at least one of the bad habits got re-established. 
> 
> Basically, I just wanted Connor to try something simple that's new to him (that has nothing to do with sex), I wanted Connor and Hank to make out (this has more to do with sex), and I wanted to squeeze in several headcanons of mine. 
> 
> Good luck, love, and low temperatures!

“Thank you, Sir.” Connor paid the taxi driver and climbed out, the car speeding off before he set his second foot on the pavement. A light breeze brushed his skin. It was too warm, he noted, to bring any relief to those suffering from the limitations of their organic bodies. The setting sun painted the clear-blue sky orange and purple but like the eleven nights before, this one wouldn’t bring the desired coolness.

He took a moment to take in the colors of the horizon. A faint smile appeared on his face as he pitied the humans for their sensitivity towards the heat. Aching and groaning under the soaring temperatures blinded them to the beauties the universe offered them.

But hope persisted.

He pulled out his cell phone, a cutting-edge device, a gift from Hank, tossed at Connor under pretended indifference and carelessness after removing androids from common communication and data transfer networks was added to the Social Integration Act for Androids to come to level them with humans.

Connor unlocked the screen and selected the last message he had received two hours ago to make sure he had gotten to the right address. In fact, there was no doubt he had remembered it correctly when instructing the taxi driver but he drew an odd sense of comfort from rereading Hank’s brusque messages to him. This discovery had quickly dispersed his annoyance with the lawmakers who seem to think, on both sides, that a harmonic coexistence between androids and humans was only achievable when androids got forcefully limited in their abilities. Holding the carrier of Hank’s words in his hand and the letters staring back at him, even if it was nothing but ‘See me at the Dog Park’ plus the address, made it more real, palpable, than the same message flashing through his mind, being broken down to its core bits and the information stored in the according sections of his artificial brain.

Funny, how emotions put a different layer on the most mundane things to the point that the inconvenient became desirable.

He put the phone away. It was time to find Hank. His human. Not in a possessive nor demeaning sense, just his. The wondrous and beautiful oddity of belonging to someone while Connor himself belonged to him without any implication of ownership. After weeks of struggle, this had been what put Connor at peace with the turmoil human emotions had brought.

He looked around. Where could Hank be? Connor hadn’t been here before. Usually, they took Sumo to a regular park closer to home while this one was a full hour drive away. Hank hadn’t mentioned this park before and Connor knew of no personal connection between Hank and this place from earlier years.

He followed the gravel path wounding along a sparkling blue, shallow river. Except for a few birds chirping lazy afternoon songs - even animals seemed to suffer in this weather - and the wind rustling the drying leaves of poplar and oaks trees the park was quiet. Time was crawling towards evening and as it was still hot outside, Connor assumed most owners kept walking their dogs short these days. He stiffened a little as he struggled to allow himself to feel disappointed. The simple name of the park had carried a promise and stirred up expectations which involved a high number of happily playing dogs on wide green meadows. The unpleasant feeling came and went quickly as he resolved to convince Hank to return here once the temperatures were back to a more moderate level.

About ten minutes later, he finally found Hank in one of the corners of the park, lounging on a bank under a broad oak tree, sunglasses protecting his eyes from the last rays of sunshine falling through the branches. Sumo was stretching across the path, his large head as close to the river as possible without leaving the shadows cast by the trees. Connor’s smile turned into a frown as he walked closer.

“You’re drinking, Lieutenant.” No virus scan or recalibration had helped him to get rid of the habit of falling back to calling Hank by his job title whenever Connor was irritated or flustered. Flustered, _not_ pouting, as Hank liked to remark with a smirk now and then.

Hank turned his head, waving at Connor with the beer in his hand before taking a long sip. Connor sighed and sat down next to him, his back straight, hands placed on his legs, and scowled harder than it was doing the offense justice. Hank had worked up a light tan over the last days, the contrast making the silver of his hair stand out more than usual. He had tied it up to a loose ponytail, revealing the strong features of his face. He was wearing a white t-shirt and denim shorts. Through the thin shirt, the darker parts of Hank’s chest tattoo shone through. Sun and shadows danced over the muscles of his arms and legs. Hank had declared an open war against Connor’s constant attempts to overhaul his eating habits and the semi-regular gym routine he had picked up over the last months hadn’t gotten rid of all of his unnecessary weight. But by now, Hank also looked like he could easily throw Connor over his shoulder and carry him to the bedroom.

“You know my eyes are open behind these?” Hank tapped against his sunglasses with a wide grin. “Having fun checking me out?”

Connor turned away, suddenly more aware of the unpleasant effect of hot temperatures. His mind had developed a tendency to wander of against his will since he had become deviant and for a moment, he had found himself back in Hank’s bed instead of on a bench in a park. Of course, Hank noticed it and had to joke about it. Embarrassment was almost as unpleasant as disappointment but for some reason, whenever Hank teased him about it, Connor found himself entangled in a tight web of contradictory emotions he failed to categorize into good and bad.

“Did you skip the meeting and came here to get drunk?” The attempt to change the topic should throw Hank off the track, he hated it when Connor became too controlling of his life and _mothered_ him, as Hank called it. Instead of snapping back at Connor to mind his own business, Hank laughed.

“Can’t let my buddy drink on his own. That’s bad manners.” Hank pointed at a water-filled bowl in the grass which Connor recognized at Sumo’s from the kitchen. “And before you get all preachy on my ass, nope, not getting drunk. Went to the meeting like the good guy I am and now I enjoy a single cold one. A well-deserved one, if I might say so!”

“Whatever you say, Lieutenant…” Connor wasn’t convinced. He couldn’t bring Hank to agree to stay abstinent from alcohol but Hank had promised him to go easy on drinking. One or two drinks now and then, no more getting wasted. So far, he hadn’t caught Hank breaking his promise and he didn’t see any other beer bottles, empty or not. The bag lying next to Sumo’s bowl looked empty.

“You done scanning the crime scene for evidence? What comes now, reconstructing my afternoon or licking my face to analyze my alcohol level? Although,” Hank shoved up his sunglasses and winked at Connor, “If it’s the last one I might cooperate.” The glasses dropped back into their place and Hank laughed when Connor blushed. Society celebrated Kamski as a genius, more than ever since information about his influence on the androids’ deviancy and capability to feel leaked. But as far as Connor was concerned, he could have done without several of the high-praised “just like a human!” features, like blushing. Or how strongly he was affected by any of Hank’s shameless innuendos.

He took a deep breath, redirecting his thoughts.

“How was the meeting?”

“Good, good.” Hank stretched his legs and took another sip. “Ah, that’s one thing I wish I could share with you. The taste of cold bitterness on the hottest day of July.” He put the empty bottle between them, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stretched his arms behind his head.

“You’re changing the subject.” Fine, he’d let go the drinking but he was still determined to hear about Hank’s group session for grieving parents, if it was only to be sure Hank really went.

“It’s called build-up, baby. Have some fucking patience, please.” Hank groaned but Connor smiled. Hank had tried various kinds of endearments over the last months and neither fitted Connor. In the end, _baby_ somehow got stuck to both their amusement.

“Didn’t have exactly a great start today,” Hank finally began to tell. “The fucking heat’s getting everybody mopey and I’m no exception. Then all that trouble with Reed, well, you know.” Hank shrugged and Connor was beginning to worry, although, Hank’s pose was still at ease and aside from some mild annoyance at the mention of Gavin Reed, his voice was relaxed.

“Guess I wasn’t the only thin-skinned bastard in the room today,” Hank continued. “Before the first ten minutes were over, Sue and I almost got into a fistfight.” He paused and looked at Connor who didn’t even try to hide the expected reaction.

“Sue Wallace? Hank, why?” Connor feared the worst. Hank had shown him a picture of the group members, Sue Wallace was a petite woman almost half as old as Hank and had a small, angular face made for an obstinate personality. In the last year, Connor had learned that with humans, size and mass were secondary factors for fierceness when anger got added to the equation. And Hank, usually polite towards women, was equally unpredictable when angered. He wouldn’t be surprised if anyone present got hurt and Hank kicked out of the group.

“If I tell you I wasn’t dishonorably discharged, will you stop looking at me like I just ate your cat alive? And no, no blood was shed. Long story short, I talked about Cole and got a bit bitter about it.” Hank sighed. He had made excellent progress since spring and talking about his son had become easier. Falling back into the old bitterness was a step backward. However, Connor didn’t worry too much. Hank mentioned him now with barely any deep pain. Connor was about to tell him not to be too hard on himself but Hank already spoke on, “Suddenly, Sue jumped up, all in tears, and yelled at me. I should be grateful, after all, I got six years with my boy while she had to bury her daughter before her first week on this planet was over. I yelled back how much more it hurts when you got to know your kid. One word followed the other, things got heated, and she threw a punch at me.”

“Hank!”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.” Hank dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “What I said was shit. Doc got between us before I could do something stupid. In the end, we both howled like fucking children. And we’re invited to the big annual Wallace barbecue next Sunday.”

“We’re what?” The sudden turn took Connor by surprise. He understood the information but couldn’t bring it in line with what Hank told before.

“Sue and her husband throw a big BBQ every summer for their neighborhood and friends. Sumo’s got invited, too. Yeah, of course you are. You’re a good boy!” He nodded at his dog who lazily lifted his head at the mention of his name. “Well, Connor. That’s how humans do sometimes. Cads’ fighting when ended is soon mended. ‘Specially when both sides aren’t assholes at heart and know they were in the wrong.”

“I see.” Connor nodded. Sometimes, airing frustrations helped relieve the tension between two or more individuals. He had experienced this lesson himself. “I’m glad nothing happened and that you feel better. But Hank, are you sure we’re all invited? Do they know what I am?”

Abruptly, Hank sat up. He grabbed Connor by his neck and pulled him into an unexpected kiss. Connor’s impulse to protest was cut off by Hank’s tongue. He faintly tasted like beer and his lips were warm from the sun. Connor’s hand clawed into Hank’s shirt and he melted into the kiss, letting Hank claim him as his. Hank could be painfully gentle for hours but if he got rough and possessive like this, it did something to Connor he couldn’t describe but it made him forget where they were and what they were talking about or that he hated to blush.

“You’re my partner,” Hank said once he gave Connor free. “At work, at home, and in bed. That’s _who_ you are. You happen to be an android and it doesn’t matter shit. I never made a secret of it and of the fact that you have the cutest and most fuckable ass in Detroit. If you don’t want to go with me, don’t fucking go, but never think you being who you are is a problem.”

Connor looked up at him and smiled, his eyes becoming wet, another treacherous feature.

“Thank you. I accept the invitation.”

“You better do. It’s your first barbecue, isn’t it?”

Connor nodded. “Naturally, as this is my first summer and we haven’t been to one so far.” He leaned back against the bench, considering for a moment to demand more physical signs of affection from Hank but the moment had passed. “It’s an interesting season. For me, it’s more pleasant than winter, thirium has a higher tolerance for high than for low temperatures. I find it regrettable to see how many humans dislike it. I understand that your organisms aren’t made for longer exposure to the heat but the negatives seem to prevent you from seeing the positive sides.”

Hank leaned back as well and groaned his very specific “I don’t need an android to remind me of the fallibility of men” groan. Yes, the moment had definitely passed.

“I know you’re dying to elaborate, so, elaborate already.”

Connor didn’t let Hank’s irritated tone fool him, not anymore. He might be gruff and didn’t like it when others told him they knew better - a trait not reserved for androids - but Connor knew he was genuinely curious about Connor’s perspective, as it was often different from his or most humans around them.

“It’s the colors. The light. Everything is more intense, from the leaves of the trees to the lake and the sky.” He pointed at the bits of sky they could see above the tree crowns. “It’s beautiful. I’d like to sit here and watch the sun sat in winter to compare the imagery. I noticed winter has beautiful colors as well but they’re less vibrant. Less alive.” Excitement accompanied his speech and brought it to an end with a sigh, as though the last word was the beginning and the end of all things mattered.

“Humph.” Hank lifted the glasses and gave Connor a long, thoughtful look.

“Did I say something silly?” Connor asked after a while, growing uncomfortable under the silent gaze.

“Nah. I get you. We shouldn’t ignore good stuff because of the bad stuff, no matter how bad. Might not get the full impact of good but it’s still there. Not always easy, or possible, to live by, but not wrong.”

“I admit I hadn’t broken it down to an abstract concept, but yes. Hank, do you think-”

“But I noticed something, Connor,” Hank interrupted him. He bent down and before Connor could ask what he was doing, Hank grabbed his legs, pulled them up, and put Connor’s feet on his lap.

“Hank? Why?” was all he could get out as he quickly clung to the bench to maintain his balance. Meanwhile, Hank began to untie his shoelaces.

“You just talked about stuff you _see_. That’s when something clicked.” He let one shoe, then the other, drop to the ground and quickly pulled off the white socks. “Us old folks are grumpy fucks. That’s our right. But you missed at least twenty years of fun in the sun and with that, I mean other stuff than drooling over sunsets. You aren’t supposed to give much of a fuck about them in the first two decades of your life. Suffering from a crush being the big exception.” Grinning, he shoved Connor’s feet off his lap and stood up, straightening his back and stretching his arms over his head.

“I’m not sure I understand.” Connor looked first at Hank, then at his feet in confusion. He couldn’t think of a time outside he had been without proper shoes.

“Careful with the gravel. Some stones have mean edges. Don’t let them bother you.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt badly.” The tiny stones were smooth against his feet and, despite lying in the shadows, slightly warm. He shifted a bit more weight on them. Hank was right, there was one sharper edge standing out but it didn’t hurt as much as it tickled. He moved his toes, the combination of the sound of grinding pebbles and the warm, ticklish feeling against his soles strangely pleasing.

“And it’s only getting better. Come!” Hank had pushed off his own sneakers and reached out his hand. Connor took it and let Hank pull him up. “A proper lover of mine must know how nice it is to walk on grass with his bare feet.”

“Oh?” Connor raised his eyebrows. For Hank, that sounded quite anti-climatic, especially since he didn’t have to lead Connor far. The meadow began right next to the bench and it wasn’t even in a lush condition. Too much sun had dried most of it and the grass was more yellow than green. Connor put the first foot on it.

“Oh!” Despite the dry ground and grass, there was still a certain softness that cushioned his weight. This happened, of course, as well when he wore shoes but like the low noises, he was far more aware of it now. Feeling the structure and shapes tickling his skin, it was suddenly becoming more real.

“See?” Hank grinned at him in smug triumph. “Come, let’s go over to them trees! It’s still green there. You’ll like it!”

Still holding Hank’s hand, Connor followed, taking slow, light steps, as if he was walking a tightrope or on the fragile surface of a frozen lake, feeling and listening to what happened under his soles, taking in every sensation as if his life depended on it. All while trusting Hank’s lead, who surely guided him away from the dried parts towards a group of lush chestnut trees, their green and spiky fruits hanging heavily from their branches.

He shuddered as his toes touched the first patch of dark green. He carefully put down his foot. The grass was so much softer, so much cooler, so much more gentle to his sensitive soles.

“May I assume you we found something else you like, pretty boy?” Hank chuckle and pulled him close to him, one hand still holding Connor’s while putting his other arm around his waist and putting the hand on the lower end of Connor’s spine. He had pushed his glasses up into his hair and his blue eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“It’s beautiful,” Connor whispered, overwhelmed by the new sensations and the familiar security he felt from Hank’s closeness.

“Knew a sensitive guy like you’d like it. You’re born to feel.”

Connor thought of correcting him, he wasn’t born, he was made, and if those who put his body and code together had known the potential Kamski had implemented in his blueprints, they’d have burnt them. He was neither born nor made with the purpose of feeling in mind.

But Hank’s lips were more alluring than arguing semantics. Grass and moss tickled him almost like Hank’s beard, and with the firm pressure of Hank’s hand on his back, he quickly forgot about the sinister circumstances of his origins. Whatever purpose there once had been, Hank made him feel and he wasn’t getting enough of it. He leaned deeper into the kiss, pressed harder against Hank’s soft yet strong body, the pleased growl coming from Hank stoking the growing tingling in his groin.

“I like it here.” Connor panted when Hank gave him a break and gently caressed the bearded cheek. “But can we go home now?”

“Not yet. Look, Sumo’s just lying down for a nap, you wouldn’t want to interrupt him, would you?” Indeed, Sumo had left his spot on the path and followed them, quickly retreating to a nice, cool patch under one of the trees where he lied down with a big yawn. Hank, however, didn’t give Connor much time to think of his dog’s feelings. He pushed Connor’s jacket down his shoulders, his teeth nibbling on the skin of Connor’s throat.

“Hngh!” Connor clenched his teeth to suppress a grown when Hank’s calloused hands moved under his shirt. He loved the feeling of Hank’s rough fingertips on his smooth skin and they just had to come close to the sensitive area around his nipples to let his pants become uncomfortably tight. After another moment filled with light touches and bites, Connor’s shirt landed on the ground, next to his jacket.

Hank let go of Connor’s hand and took a step back, looking at Connor with a knowing smile. Connor crossed his arms in an attempt to cover his bare chest. It wasn’t cold. He felt the breeze brushing his skin but it was warm. Yet, he shuddered. Half-naked body, bare feet, the effects of Hank’s teasing clearly visible in his tight pants, Connor felt exposed and vulnerable outside the confinement of their bedroom. Hank was within reach but without feeling his touch, there might as well be a world between them. He was willingly leaving all control to Hank but they had never done more than holding hands or sharing a hug and a quick kiss in public. Connor had certainly never shown skin in public.

It was scary.

His face was burning.

And exciting.

Hank closed the gap between them, putting a hand on Connor’s face. “Would you lay down for me?”

Connor looked around. Nobody was there but them but it was still a public park and the evening air might lure more people out to a nice walk any moment.

“Are you sure? What if somebody comes?” Yet, despite his reasonable concerns, he slowly sunk to the ground.

“Don’t worry. People will stick closer to the gates and the center at this time. And if really someone’s getting closer, Sumo’s gonna warn us. Come, lay down on your back.” Hank’s voice had changed to this low, graveling grumble, both gentle and firm. And impossible to resist. Connor nodded and did as he was told, breathing heavily under the weight of worries, anticipation, and excitement. Hank stretched out next to him, only his fingers touching him as the shoved strands of Connor’s disheveled hair out of his face.

“How does it feel? Lying on the grass like this?” Hank had wrapped a dark curl around his index and gave it a playful tug. Connor closed his eyes and sighed. He wanted to be touched. Needed it. He needed Hank’s mouth on his and Hank’s hands on his body and his cock, needed it to blur the waves of contradicting emotions waving over him, to turn the last fragments of fear into lust. But it didn’t happen. Hank didn’t have to say it. He wouldn’t give Connor what he wanted unless he demanded it. Or played along.

“Weird. Everything feels weird,” he finally said. “The grass feels good,” he added after a pause. “Soft, cool. It tickles.” He shifted his back to escape one cheeky grass stalk that kept poking between his shoulder blades.

“You aren’t cold, are you?” The concern in Hank’s voice was too much. He didn’t want concern.

“No, it’s good.”

“You sure?” Hank’s index lightly traced Connor’s skin, starting on his throat and slowly wandering past his pecks, over his abdomen, and down to the waistband of his pants. “You’re shivering.”

Connor opened his eyes, an intense wave of frustration taking over him. He turned to Hank and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, glaring at him.

“And whose fault is that?”

Hank chuckled, gently peeling Connor’s fingers from his shirt. Holding him by his wrist, Hank pulled Connor’s arm over his head, holding it down.

“Might as well fix it then, eh?” He covered Connor’s mouth with a deep, lazy kiss. He shoved himself half over Connor, his shirt brushing over his stomach. Connor sighed, mildly frustrated when Hank refused to join his eagerness. Hank taking his time with him was the best and the worst. Caught between the cold bed made of grass and moss and the heat and weight from Hank’s body, he had no choice bet leaving the pace to Hank. And to feel. Cold and warm. Soft skin, the tickling of Hank’s beard, Hank’s rough thumb caressing his palm while he still held down Connor’s arm. All these opposing sensations flooded him, numbed his mind, and came together in one stream pooling in his groin, burning him from inside and unreachable from his own hands to find relief.

As soon as Hank let go of his hand, Connor wrapped his arms around Hank’s neck. He shoved one leg over Hank’s in a desperate attempt to pull him as close as possible. A hand moved over his face, his throat, his chest, while the other moved around his shoulder and rested on his back, a promise to be there and hold him if he fell.

“Hank,” he gasped when Hank moved his lips to Connor’s ear, tenderly biting the lobe.

“Yeah?” He more hummed against Connor’s skin than spoke, his breath tickling Connor’s ear.

“Can we do it? Now?”

“What?”

Connor winced, he hated when Hank was doing this. He still struggled to express what he wanted and while he had learned to be more comfortable to initiate sex if he was in the mood, it was getting more difficult to say it out loud the further he was lost in his arousal.

“You know what,” he tried but he foresaw the answer before Hank said it.

“Nope. Enlighten me, please.”

“Fuck me, okay?” Pressing his jaws together, he was clinging to Hank, his face buried in the curve of Hank’s neck. “I want you to fuck me already!”

“And I haven’t even touched your dick yet. Wonder what you’d demand if I did.” Chuckling, but without a mocking undertone, Hank stopped the teasing and put his hand on the bulge of Connor’s pants, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Dammit, Hank!” Connor growled and bit down on Hank’s neck, only partly as punishment. Hank laughed, and gently pushed him back down into the grass but instead of kissing him more, Hank only gazed down at him.

“Love you too, baby.” He caressed Connor’s cheeks, the tensed muscles of his face relaxing under the touch and more so at his words. “And damn, wouldn’t mind fucking you right here but I gotta admit, I hadn’t thought further ahead than having a beer with you under the shadows of the trees.”

“Can’t we anyway?” Connor shoved a hand between them, gently pushing against Hank’s groin, his excitement increasing even more as he found it at least as hard as his own.

“Don’t be unreasonable. Damn! Never thought I’d say that to you one day!” His laugh was slightly strained as Connor kept rubbing over the hard cock beneath Hank’s shorts.

“Sometimes, being unreasonable has its benefits.” A sly grin formed on his face. He knew Hank was right. Without lube, neither of them would find it enjoyable, they had tried, and unlike humans, Connor’s ass didn’t adjust faster from having sex on a regular base. They had tried that as well. However, finding himself in the possession of a little more control, having the power to make Hank at least think of changing his mind, all with a simple touch of his hand, gave Connor a deeply satisfying feeling.

But Hank refused to be bested for long. He moved his hips away from Connor and sealed his resolve with another, this time harder kiss. Hank was biting him, his teeth gnawing and pulling Connor’s bottom lip, and his tongue soothing the pain before it dived deep into Connor’s mouth, suffocating any gasps or words of protest. As before on the bench, this wasn’t teasing play; instead, Connor felt claimed, possessed by Hank’s love and desire, owned without ownership.

Without interrupting the kiss, Hank aptly opened first the belt, then the button of Connor’s pants. Throwing all teasing and consideration overboard, his hand slipped into Connor’s underwear and closed around his cock. Connor groaned, the sound muffled by the kiss, and thrust into Hank’s fist. Hank removed his hand right away, leaving Connor squirming under him. A few seconds later he was back, touching him, and as soon as Connor moved, he pulled away.

After the fourth time, Connor finally understood. Hank’s second hand was still between his back and the ground and thus, Hank couldn’t push him down to stop him from moving. Connor had to restrain himself and leave it to Hank whatever he wanted to do to Connor’s dick, how long, and at which pace.

And it was a slow pace Hank chose. His grip around the hard cock was firm, his thumb pressing against its tip, gently massaging it while he stroked the shaft with lazy ease, quickly driving Connor insane.

“Hank…!” Released from the kiss, Connor pressed his head into the grass. Not only his cock was hard and aching. Everything in his body was tensed as if he was about to snap in half. His synthetic heart raced in his chest while his thirium regulator pulsated with its usual, consistent hum, another contradiction he was exposed to and that became more and more impossible to bear. And yet again he got distracted, unable to keep his mind in one place as Hank began to kiss his exposed throat, his beard scratching over the sensitive skin.

“Sorry, baby, that’s all I can do for you now,” Hank muttered in that low voice that affected Connor as strongly as the hand around his cock. “Gonna make it up to you at home, that’s a promise. Gonna fuck your pretty ass, all nice ‘n slow, until you’re too weak to call my name. And then I’ll fuck you for another round.”

“Hank…” This promise was as scary as it was arousing. As much as he lacked patience at his job, Hank had an abundance of it in bed and he loved to use it to make Connor suffer, to take away his last remains of control, until he was nothing but a shivering mess unable to focus on anything but Hank’s fingers or cock in his ass. So far, Hank had always brought it to an end when it had become too much for Connor. He would always stop when that point was reached and never pushed further. Yet, what if not this time, what if this time, it took longer to reach that point, what if…

His body convulsed and he arched into Hank’s touch. For a few seconds, everything inside of him threatened to burst and like a fine, glowing needle, a last electric impulse shot through his groin, releasing him from the all-engulfing tension in his body. He spasmed, his cock pulsating in Hank’s fist as it drove towards the fine line between overwhelming lust and painful overstimulation. As always, he shot dry, a circumstance that delighted Hank as it made it easier to grope and bring Connor as close as possible without leaving treacherous evidence of his deeds.

For Connor, it didn’t make a difference. As he slowly calmed down, his body and mind felt lost and drained, and he collapsed against Hank who had quickly wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close to his chest.

“It’s okay, Connor. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Connor had lost count how often Hank had said these words to him after he came but they still rang true like the first time. He felt the warmth of Hank’s skin through his shirt, Hank’s breath against his hair, warm and strong hands caressing him while they hold him. Hank really was there, to keep him safe when he couldn’t make sense of the world and to keep him grounded when everything around him seemed to fall apart. And everything was sweet and good.

By the time he realized he was lying spread half-across Hank, his arms still around him, the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon. The wind had picked up and while it still wasn’t cold, it had cooled down enough to sent a pleasant chill down Connor’s spine. And not only Hank kept him warm. Connor turned his head a little and spotted another heat source by their side. Sumo had given up his nice spot under the tree and snuggled against them, his long, soft fur tickling Connor’s side as he moved.

“Look who’s awake. All good?” Hank blinked a few times and yawned, voice still sleepy. Connor smiled, his chin resting on Hank’s chest. He let his fingertips wander through Hank’s beard.

“Yes. Thank you.” He still didn’t understand why his mood switched so abruptly once he came, from delight and lust to feeling lost, lonely, and in despair. It was thanks to Hank that the fall never lasted longer than a few seconds which were easily worth the excitement before and closeness and exhausting satisfaction after. He had never managed to put it in proper words but Hank understood.

“Don’t thank me, I need you to be all right, okay? That’s kinda the point of the whole thing.” Hank yawned a second time and put his hands on Connor’s hips. “But if you’re really fine, how about a second round?” Connor frowned.

“Didn’t you promise me to continue at home? To go further?” As soon as he sat up, Hank pushed him further down until Connor straddled his groin. Depleted energy or not, in spirit, Connor was a young man and the possibilities of this position didn’t leave him unaffected.

“You can say ‘fuck’, baby. We should work on that, you know.” A wide, mischievous grin appeared on Hank’s face and Connor didn’t like it at all “How about I don’t let you go until you tell me that you want me to fuck you, how you want me to fuck you, and at least three other things you want me to do to your pretty ass?”

“Hank! No!” He firmly protested but he also felt his cock harden in his pants at the thought of him voicing all the things Hank was talking about. In this position, there was no doubt Hank was feeling it as well.

“A shame, I have the impression it’d be good and a good turn-on for you.” He gently stroke over Connor’s blushing face. “It’s okay. Maybe next time. The talk, I mean.” Hank sat up and caught Connor before pushing him off his lap by accident. “I’m still gonna fuck your ass.” He moved into a kiss. Connor closed his eyes when a sudden rustling of dry grass made their heads turn.

“Fuck!” Hank hissed through his teeth.

Steps came closer. A moment later, Hank shielded his eyes. A bright light was aimed at their faces. Connor identified it as a torchlight. He pressed closer against Hank, hiding his face on his shoulder.

“Lieutenant Anderson! _And_ Connor!” The light was lowered and both of them had a better view at the face grinning down on them.

“Oh, FUCK you, Chris! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’d ask you the same but I already have a good idea what’s going on. Hank, I get it, you have a young lover but do you really have to roll around in the park like horny teenagers?” Chris spoke with unveiled glee. He was their friend and knew about their relationship, it was better to be caught by him than by one of the officers who had reservations towards romantic relationships between work partners, or human-android relationships, or both. Yet, Connor wished he could turn invisible, or that he had at least cut Hank’s teasing short. They could have avoided this embarrassing situation if they had only left five minutes ago.

“Hey, you think this old man doesn’t know how to have fun? Or are you just jealous?” Hank was as amused as he was irritated and he showed Chris the finger while patting Connor’s back in a vain attempt to comfort him.

“Just doing my job here, Hank.” Chris was having the time of his life and to add insult to injury, Sumo had gotten up to rub his big head against Chris’ leg and demanded to be petted. “Somebody reported two suspicious figures acting obscene in the park. I was on my way to the precinct so I thought why not check it out. Who’d had thought I’d find Detroit’s most decorated Lieutenant and our first Officer for Android Affairs engaging in indecent acts in public!” He snickered while scratching Sumo behind his ears.

“And now? You want to join or go back to your job?”

Connor tensed. What was Hank thinking?! As unlikely it was that Chris would be interested in the first offer, the very thought… he didn’t want to be shared!

“Thanks for the offer but I’m already doing my job. Come on, Hank. Give up while it’s still funny and get your asses home. Don’t force me to arrest you. Don’t you agree? Yes, you do, you’re a good boy!” He had knelt down to give Sumo’s neck a more thorough scratching.

“Hank, please.” For the first time since their discovery, Connor spoke up. Being arrested and brought back to the precinct shirtless was a horrifying thought.

“Yeah, yeah. Give us a minute or two to pick up our stuff. And maybe a minute to get dressed in peace.” Hank nodded at Connor who still couldn’t bring himself to look at Chris. “We’ll be on our way in five.”

“Got it. I’ll tell the caller whoever was here was already gone when I checked.” He patted Sumo’s had one last time, picked up his lamp, and got up. “Oh, and Hank, I really like my donuts with strawberry jam. You know, the ones you planned to bring to work tomorrow.”

“Stuffing your fucking face with strawberry jam donuts to keep you from talking. Got it. Now get lost before my partner here convinces the ground to open and swallow him!” Hank couldn’t hold back a small laugh of his own while Chris chuckled, waved, and walked away.

“Some fine guard dog you are!” Hank growled at Sumo who laid down and whined after his friend Chris. “And you, are you okay? Connor?”

Connor tried to turn away from him but Hank grabbed him by his chin and forced him to look back. Hank’s eyes widened as he saw the blushing face. Connor could feel how realization dawned him and he knew he had no chance at denial when a hand brushed over his hard cock.

“Interesting.” Hank chuckled in delight. “Sharing, being watched, or strawberry jam. Will you tell me or do I have to test what of these things your newest turn-on is?”


End file.
